The "Smashmortion" Debate

Photograph of Jenna Elfman in "Accidentally on Purpose" courtesy of CBS Broadcasting Inc.

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If you who watched Monday night’s pilot of the CBS sitcom Accidentally on Purpose, you might have wondered why Jenna Elfman’s character, Billie, didn’t consider an abortion. After all, she discovered she was pregnant from a one-night-stand with Zach (Jon Foster), a much younger man with serious slacker tendencies. Not exactly obvious dad material. Billie is a movie critic, so she should, in theory, do some critical thinking in regard to her own life. It also seems reasonable to expect that a journalist would be able to use the word “abortion” in relation to her own situation. As in, “Should I have an abortion?”

She does not ask that question, at least in this first episode. I, however, most certainly did. And I'm the "real" Billie. CBS’s Accidentally on Purpose is loosely based on my memoir of the same name (which in its paperback edition has the subtitle “The True Tale of a Happy Single Mother”). It’s the story of what happened after I, at 39, then a newspaper film critic, had a very unexpectedly productive one-night stand with an unemployed 29-year-old.

Sitcom-me is not as ancient as reality me, in part because Elfman is 37, about to turn 38. But I would also guess that 39 is an unappealing number for the networks. Thirty-seven has possibilities. Thirty-nine is basically 40, which is practically a grandmother in TV world. And my sitcom lover is younger as well: only 22. What’s ironic about that age change is that if I had been 37 and had drunken, unprotected sex with a 22 year-old like Zach, I would have taken the morning-after pill. I’m not saying that would have been the right choice, only that I needed to be at the brink of the 40-something cliff in order to jump off it.

Did I know I was fertile on that evening? No. Sex-deprived for nearly a year, I’d lost track of where and when I was in my cycle. There was a condom on the premises, but it never made it out of the package. (Anyone who wants to judge me for the unprotected sex should know this: In theory, I get you, but in practice, I’ve got a spectacularly sweet and beautiful son, and the pleasure of his company trumps any and all societal condemnation.)

I realized I was pregnant only a few weeks after that night. Like Billie, my response to the positive test included some freaking out, because that is what you do when you realize you are pregnant by a stranger, but mostly I felt an inner certainty that I was going to have that baby and that, somehow, it would all be OK.

But as the weeks went by and I got to know more about the father of my potential child, who had been temping on and off for three years, doubts did set in that made me consider having an abortion. He seemed so drifty, and I was so scared. The impulse that had driven my whole romantic life up until that point, the seeking of a traditional, married life with house and kids, was so ingrained that it continued to pull at me, even when I thought I’d made the decision.

I was about seven weeks pregnant when I went to a speed-dating event that I’d signed up for months before. I went because I was curious. I went because I wanted to feel other possibilities. And honestly, the men there surprised me. There were at least five I’d have gone out on a date with, including a geologist with kids I was somewhat smitten by. They loomed as opportunities for that traditional life, one that seemed “easier” back then, before I learned that there are as many joys in deviation as there are in wedded bliss.

I told Matt, who had been agonizing over how to break the news to his parents, that I was not sure I was going ahead with the pregnancy. He told me it was my choice but that he hoped I wouldn’t have an abortion. He was not stern, he was not demanding, he was just interested in loving this child we could have. Have I mentioned that he is a tremendously good guy?